


the one with the babies

by queerly_yours



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Multi, Pack in College, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Trans Character, Trans Stiles, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/pseuds/queerly_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd kisses his nose, brushes his hands down Stiles back, patting his butt playfully. “The girls are here,” he murmurs, “Maybe they’ll want to-“</p>
<p>But he breaks off as they open the door, sensing their unease and fear. He swiftly picks Stiles up and sets him on his feet before asking, “What’s-“</p>
<p>“We’re pregnant,” Lydia and Erica blurt out in unison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one with the babies

**Author's Note:**

> written for stoyd week: a belated entry to "the one with the babies."

Boyd senses them before they walk in the door, listening for their heartbeats is second nature by now. Erica’s is slow and steady, vital, with supernatural blood running through her veins, and Lydia’s thrums pleasantly in his ears, like a familiar and soothing lullaby that he always knew.

He pulls away from Stiles, breaking the kiss, but not the contact, his hands still tangled in his boyfriend’s messy hair, their bodies intertwined. Stiles whines, pressing his forehead to Boyd’s, his hips still slowly grinding down onto Boyd’s lap, seeking friction.

Boyd kisses his nose, brushes his hands down Stiles back, patting his butt playfully. “The girls are here,” he murmurs, “Maybe they’ll want to-“

But he breaks off as they open the door, sensing their unease and fear. He swiftly picks Stiles up and sets him on his feet before asking, “What’s-“

“We’re pregnant,” Lydia and Erica blurt out in unison.

Nobody moves.

Thirty seconds. One minute. Five.

Erica looks pained and nervous, her skin pale and a little green around the edges, whereas Lydia is obviously pissed, her eyes boring holes in both Boyd and Stiles, stance defensive, her body curving protectively in front of their girlfriend as if _they_ were the enemy.

“Lydia,” Boyd starts softly, glancing over at their gob smacked boyfriend, whose face is drawn, mouth gaping like a fish.

Stiles sucks in a breath. “Well, don’t look at me!” he exclaims, voice high and pinched, throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t even have the-“ he gestures at himself. “I mean, I can’t…” he trails off, his cheeks pink with frustration and chagrin.

Boyd grabs him by his hand, kisses his knuckles. “We know, Stiles. It’s fine,” he soothes, pulling Stiles in for a grounding hug.

Lydia huffs, dragging the boys’ attention back to them, but they don’t part ways. Boyd merely turns Stiles so that his back is to Boyd’s chest, Boyd’s arms wrapped around his middle. It’s not usually like this – the boys against the girls. They each have their own bedrooms in their apartment, but they take turns in each other’s bedrooms or they all end up in Boyd’s. He has the largest bed, a California king, where they can all sleep comfortably. It’s just that right now the girls are defensive and who could blame them?

“How long?” Boyd asks, rubbing comforting circles right above Stiles’ hipbones.

Lydia crosses her free arm over her chest, sniffs. “Seven weeks. I went to the doctor last week.”

Stiles squawks, but Lydia shuts his up with one sharp glare, her eyes angry slits, voice low and venomous. “Don’t even start, Stilinski. It’s my body, my _choice_. You, _of all people_ , should understand that,” she snaps at him.

 Stiles stops breathing altogether for a moment. He curls in on himself, breath rattling in his chest.

“Lydia,” Boyd admonishes.

She lets out a long breath, her shoulders sinking, tears form in the corner of her eyes and, before she can stop them, they spill down her ruddy cheeks. Erica lets her hand go and wraps her arms around her, face pressed into the crook of her neck. “I- I’m sorry,” she says on a sob.

“Fuck,” Stiles exhales. “Lyds, it’s fine.” He rips out of Boyd’s grasp and goes to them, pulling them into a fierce hug and running a hand over Lydia’s hair. He kisses Erica on the cheek and feels Boyd wrap around them from behind.

They stay like that, just holding each other, until their eyes run dry and Lydia’s stomach growls. They laugh as they pull back and Boyd orders from their favorite Italian place as Stiles puts the kettle on for tea.

“Erica,” Boyd calls from the kitchen. “How far along are you?”

“I’m only a week late,” she replies weakly as Boyd walks into the living room with two glasses of water, which will have to suffice until the tea is ready.

“We are going to schedule an appointment tomorrow to get her checked out at my doctor,” Lydia supplies from the couch. She’s sitting with one leg up and one on the floor, Erica curled between them while Lydia runs her hands through her long, blonde strands.

Erica sniffles as she takes the water from Boyd. “I’m scared,” she admits

He leans down, kisses the top of her head, then Lydia’s. “I think we’re all a little scared right now. Let’s just get through your appointment, okay?”

She nods as he settles beside her, pulling her legs over his thighs. He reaches over to Lydia, cradles her cheek with his warm, wide hand, rubs his thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m happy for you, you know?” he tells her with a quiet, reverent voice.

She smiles, a little watery, but tentatively happy.

“Me too,” Stiles says as sets the tea down, catching her gaze and locking into it, willing her to understand. “I’m just – the whole baby thing – it’s soon is all.”

Lydia sighs and Erica huffs out a laugh. “We know you don’t like kids, Stiles,” Erica says.

He flushes, but doesn’t deny the truth. “I’ll like our kids, okay?”

All three of them turn their eyes on him, assessing. He allows the staring, wonders if they’ll believe him, and then Lydia giggles and Erica snorts. Boyd leans in close and presses a kiss to his lips.

“We’ll be okay,” Erica says, reaching for Stiles’ hand over Boyd’s lap.

“Yeah,” Stiles answers. “We will.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://thegirlwholovedeverything.tumblr.com/)


End file.
